Who watches over the Watchers?
by D'len
Summary: Holmes never had a high regard for women. He finds a girl, lost, hurt and not quite human. Perhaps she could change that. Can he help her? (WIP)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is a story based on the Sherlock Holmes detective stories. This should in no way be assumed as being part of the original works. This is only for entertainment purposes. No infringement is intended and no money is being made from this. My interpretation of the characters might not the same as that of the creator, but this is fan fiction and I will try to keep them as IC (in character) as possible. Thanks.

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She ran

She ran, ran away from the light. Dark, safe, good. She slept. A sound woke her: a rat munching on her bed. Slitted eyes watched it: she was hungry. Snatch, bite – yuck, but she was hungry, always hungry. Somewhere a memory, memory of good food, darkness and safety surfaced in her clouded mind – but it was gone so quickly. She would sit for hours, waiting for those pleasant memories, but they would hide away in her head. She knew something was wrong, but her mind was too damaged to find it. 

It was dark again outside.

It was a clear and dry night. One of such beauty was very rare in London in any season, so rare that people would brave the dangers of the night to enjoy it. Two lone men were doing so, but they weren't really alone.

"Well, Holmes, another crime solved, but why did you wait so long to speak the innocence of that girl?" 

"No woman is innocent, Watson. The stay in jail did her a favour. It will keep her in her place, by the side of her husband without ever questioning him again. And in any case, it helped that the true murderer thought that we were sure of her guilt."

"You are too harsh on women, Holmes. They aren't mindless; they are just different from men, with their own thoughts and ideas. They…"

"They are a worthless offshoot of the human species." 

"Oh, Holmes, if only you would listen to reason…"

But Holmes wasn't listening anymore. He had again seen the shadow that had been following him for weeks. No matter what he did, he could never see the person that made that shadow; they were just too fast. Holmes knew that this mysterious person didn't mean him any harm, for he had seen the same shadow in his room, but as the sun rose, the shadow would run as if it's life depended on it. He vowed that he would find that shadow. 

"Watson, that man is following us again. No, don't look around: he's too skittish, he might run away if he thought we saw him."

Watson wanted desperately to see this shadow, since only Holmes had ever seen it.

"What will we do now, Holmes?"

"We return home and hope that he would follow us."

Why?, wondered Watson.

They continued on their way home, with Watson trying to see behind him without turning his head. At last they were at the apartment. As they ascended the steps to their rooms, Watson asked: "Why did we want him to follow us? Are we going to catch him?"

"Not catch, not just yet. One cannot find a man without knowing at least something about him, and that's why I ordered the package that arrived this morning."

Watson saw at the window something covered in a cloth, something that looked like a gun on a stand.

"What is it, Holmes? Don't keep this to yourself."

Holmes answered the question by revealing a telescope under the cloth, yanking it away with a flourish.

"This is what we will use to see the shadow."

Watson was apprehensive, but curious too.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so, so much for all the great reviews!! 

Disclaimers as in chapter 1 still apply.

Story and plot copyright to me. 

Chapter 2:

Sometimes the clouds would go away, and she could almost remember … things, but almost always there was nothing but mist and pain. Once, when she was watching the rain, an image of a beautiful garden came to her. She had no clue where it was, but it was pretty and it made her feel safe. From then on, whenever it rained, she sat outside; hoping it would come again. She cried a lot when it rained.

She found other places that invoked memories, good and bad. Mostly she has taken to following a man. Only good memories would come when she was near him. It was like she knew someone like him, from before the clouds and the pain came.

She was following the man again that night. He had a companion with him. They walked around for a while and then went back to the place where they slept. As they went inside, she climbed to the roof of the building opposite and started to watch their window. When the light went out, she would get closer and watch until the big light came. 

"What are you going to do with that, Holmes?" Watson pointed to the telescope.

"Not much, it's just a distraction. I've noticed that the shadow likes to look at new things in h.."

"Wait! The shadow's been inside? Here, with us, while we sleep? And you didn't think it was important to mention!" Watson was shocked and then outraged. He lived there too, and if this person was dangerous…

"I don't think he's dangerous, Watson", (not for the first time, Watson had the thought that Holmes must be a mind reader of some sort), "the shadow's been here a few times. All he does is watch and then run like the devil itself is after him when the sun comes up. Which is rather odd in itself."

"In any case, Watson, if you still wish to help capture this shadow, here is the plan…"

She watched as one of the men revealed a long cylinder on a stand underneath a piece of cloth. This was new, she's never seen anything like that before. Not that she would really remember, she thought. Her mind has been clear enough these last few nights to know that something is wrong with her, but not clear enough to really worry about it.

She wanted to go and look at the new thing in the window, but the men were still talking. At last they went to their rooms and the lights went out. The lights must be out for a while before they go to sleep, but she was too curious to wait that long. She jumped across to 221B and scrambled for a handhold for a second. Her shoulder had been hurting since a man pointed a noisy stick at her a few nights before. He had been hurting a little one and she had tried to stop him. At least the little one had had enough time to get away.

The window where one of the men slept was always open a little, no matter how cold it was. She nudged it open and squeezed inside, her long hair tangling in the catch. The figure in the bed looked peacefully asleep, and after watching it for a while, she sneaked into the sitting room. There by the window was the strange thing. Touching it, she found it was cold, made of metal. It looked hollow, so she looked through the one end - and jumped away with a small scream. The building opposite got really big! After looking around to make sure she was still in the right room, she looked again. She could see inside the other building, count the bricks in the wall, even see the chess set on the table. It was wonderful! Things far away got bigger. She was so enthralled with this new gadget that the slight noise behind her went unnoticed.

Suddenly she was grabbed from behind. She tried to scream through the hand over her mouth when something pierced her arm. 

Holmes and Watson had a hell of a time to keep their hands on the person, even after the injection. At last the struggles became less and unconsciousness took over.

Holmes laid down the limp form on the couch as Watson turned on the lights. They looked down on the pale face of a young girl, framed with long white hair. She was clothed in strange sort of form fitting suit, torn and dirty, its original colour impossible to guess. That was all normal enough, except that she had only four fingers on each hand.

Watson was the first to react. He pulled back one of her eyelids only to jump back with a gasp. Her eyes were purple. Not normal at all.

"Watson, Watson!" Holmes shook his best friend. 

Watson was dazed, but looked where his friend was pointing. The girl's right shoulder was slowly seeping blood, the wound ragged and unhealthy looking. "She's been shot," Holmes whispered. 

Watson nodded and went to get the instruments of his trade.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so, so much for all the great reviews!! Questions and suggestions are great, thank you, please don't be afraid to ask. The chapters are a bit short, I'm sorry, but I'll try to make them longer.

Please read my bio if you want to know why it took me so long to update - don't want to up the word count too much.

Lots of stories are still in progress (hint/hint - read my other stuff too!). Got a livejournal – yay!

Disclaimers as in chapter 1 still apply.

Story and plot copyright to me.

Chapter 3:

As Watson got his instruments together, Holmes had Mrs. Hudson bring some boiled water. She was quite curious as to what was happening at such a late hour, but Holmes skilfully assured her that everything was fine and that it had to do with one of their cases.

When Holmes returned to the sitting room, he saw that Watson had turned up the gaslights on the walls some more and lit some candles.

He and Holmes put some linen on the table and then carefully carried the girl onto the plat surface.

"She's very light" remarked Holmes.

Watson carefully cut the girl's strange clothes away from the wound and Holmes withdrew to another side of the room.

"Oh dear", said Watson, after a few moments.

"What is it?"

"The bullet is still inside. This wound looks at least a few days old, but I don't know how to explain this..."

"What", asked Holmes, walking closer and then changing his mind.

"Look", said Watson, holding up a tweezer for Holmes to see.

"Here's the bullet…"

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"That is good", confirmed Watson, "the strange thing is that there is almost no bullet hole left. Look at this bullet. It's deformed in such a way to suggest that it must have hit a bone on it's way in, but now there's just this flesh wound left, barely half a centimetre deep. Everything inside is completely healed."

"It was bleeding because the bullet was being pushed out?" asked Holmes after a moment's thought.

"That's what I think. The strange thing is that it healed so quickly and in such a strange way."

He cleaned and dressed the wound.

Watson looked at the serene face of the sleeping girl. "I wonder who you are."

Watson, as a doctor, took it upon himself to bathe the girl since she was absolutely filthy. They had no idea how to remove the clothes she was wearing ("see, no buttons anywhere"), so he had to resort to cutting it away. Holmes examined it. It had a strange rubbery, silky feel to it. It was quite waterproof and fireproof and no amount of tugging could tear it. Only Watson's sharp scalpel could cut through the thin material.

After the girl was put in the guestroom's bed, Holmes examined one of her hands.

"It looks like she was born this way. Thumb, forefinger, middle finger and ring finger. There are no scars or even space on her hand for the last one."

"And they are very long too, see", Watson put his hand on top of hers, showing Holmes that, even though his hand was much larger than hers, her fingers were almost a centimetre longer.

"Look, her toes are the same."

The mystery was becoming stranger every moment.

The next evening found the two men in the sitting room, each holding a snifter of brandy. It had been a hectic day for them - they had solved a case where a man tried to murder his son and his grandchild. To make it even worse was that he only did it so that he could have a clear way to his son's wife. It wasn't often that Watson saw his friend sink into the darkness of absolute fury, but in this case he didn't blame him at all. Holmes completely crushed the man's chances with the law with a few softly spoken words to the local police.

Now they were contemplating the world, or rather Watson was, he had no idea what Holmes was doing. He was still very quiet and his eyes were a bit frightening to see – pure ice they were. But at least he accepted company and didn't lock himself away, as he was wont to do sometimes. Presently, Mrs. Hudson brought in a simple supper of beef stew with fresh bread and red wine.

She woke up without pain, warm and comfortable. It stirred memories of kind faces and a place where she was happy once. All too soon the outside world made itself known: something smelt very good. Slowly she sat up and poked at the bandage on her shoulder. It didn't hurt anymore. She took off the bandage and walked to the door, beyond which she heard voices. Peering through the slightly open door, she saw two familiar men but was more interested in the food on the table. Carefully she went into the room.

"Well, well, look who's awake..."

AN: I know, only 2 pages, but the meeting, I think, should have a chapter of its own. Thanks for the reviews!

AN2: For one of my reviewers – I have no idea what elfquest is, this was all my idea: most of my characters have some physical difference from the others in the story and this is just one of the easiest to do.


	4. Preview for Chapter 4

Thank you for joining me again for the next instalment of this story, but before we get to that, there are a few things that needs to be clarified.

A bit of a backstory needs to be presented here, since it seems to have become important to this story. Particularly, the part about the who, what and where pertaining to the girl, Watson's character at this stage as well as that of Holmes.

I received a review for this story after chapter 3 and I believe that, in a way, this review is justified:

{_So, we have Misogynist!Holmes, Random!Mutant!Sue, and Stupid!Watson.   
Holmes is not misogynistic. He simply does not respect people who don't earn his respect, and most women don't get the chance to do this. Holmes has shown downright paternal concern for several of the young female clients he has had over the years (ie, the Adventure of the Speckled Band). Would he do this if he thought that they were...let's see..."worthless offshoots of the human species?"  
Watson is not stupid. He may look so, beside Holmes' brilliance, but he's not stupid. He's a doctor, for Chrissakes. And while I do respect that you showed him using his skills, he shows no medical curiosity towards the bullet wound. Please let him do that.  
I have to go to class, but I shall continue this later_.}

It seems that the reviewer (and a number of nameless e-mailers) was lured into this story by my summary and the choice of genre's, but was put off by the story since a few things were not apparent immediately. Therefore, the name of the story has been changed and an actual plot has been devised. Therein will be a complete breakdown of the characters as they will appear in this story, as well as their motivations and outlook on life. There will also be a preview for chapter 4 at the end, so anyone who wants to skip this, is quite welcome.

The next is my representation of the characters - that means as I believe them to be. This has already been mentioned in the Disclaimer, was missed by a few people. I apologise if it isn't as you believe it to be (and I will apologise for this a number of times more), but this is still my story. If you do not agree with me and these explanations are not to your liking, then please leave.

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Holmes is a very difficult character to understand and predict and so far in this story, he has not been painted in a very good light, but there is a reason for it. I believe that Holmes is a very intelligent man, with leanings into the more modern outlook that women are equal to men.

Unfortunately, this is tempered by the fact that not many women can be seen as equals (meaning women strong in character, outspoken and independent) in the 1880's to 1900's due to their upbringing to be dependent on men, that men are smarter and stronger than them. Also, they must show respect and be subservient to them. Now, this is a problem, since woman were taught this from early childhood and only those that are exceptionally strong in will and character are willing to break this unwritten rule. Not many women were willing to risk their reputation to act in this manner. Many found less obstructive ways to show their independence, but they were few and far between.

Holmes' outlook and actions are also spoiled a bit by this same upbringing he received. He was taught that women weren't as capable as men and that anyone that showed that they believed different were running the risk of becoming an outcast. This would have affected his practice a great deal - what man in their right mind would run the risk of their inner secrets and indiscretions coming to light during the course of an investigation in the presence of one that they could consider, in the ways of social interactions, to be a failure of a man.

Now, all these things contributed to the appearance that Holmes is a misogynist (dislikes women a great deal). Of course this is not true. Few men are in his league and only the women that are strong in character (the 'modern' women) can be included in his mental catalogue of those worthy of his undivided attention. Since they are so few and far between it can sometimes seem as if he doesn't care much for them. The others he feels pity for, since they can't escape the cage that society put them in.

Unfortunately, all of the above had to be summarised in less that ten words, and was therefore not very well explained, as was noted. Therefore, an apology for the misrepresentation and offence is given.

The issue of chapter 1 and his words to Watson should be addressed here. He was angry as he talked about the woman wrongfully imprisoned. In his eyes, it was her own fault she landed there, caused by her fear. She suspected who the murderer was, but because of her fear and subsequent weakness (in the eyes of Holmes), she didn't tell anyone. Her husband tried to get her to talk, but she was too afraid. Therefore, she deserved to be in jail because she acted as any woman was taught to act - weak and not able to think for themselves - and not as he had hoped she would act. This was not completely explained in the text and any confusion and offence caused, I apologise.

Now then, let's get to Watson's character. He is, of course, a doctor, one that has seen quite a bit of action in the Afghan war. He is intelligent and insightful in the ways of people, but not as much as Holmes, who had spend his whole life refining his already great talent. Therefore, it would seem as if Watson is a bit slow sometimes, but only as much as you or I would be in the detective's presence. Who can say that they would be able to keep up with his thinking process without a few pointers (as Watson was prone for asking). The bullet issue will be addressed as time goes by, please be patient.

Watson is the narrator in the books, and thus not always in possession of all the facts. He helps along the plot and points out a few things here and there, but not really a contributor of the solution of the mysteries. The hero, and sometimes fallen hero (he uses cocaine) is Holmes. The doctor is helpful and brings humour to the stories, but he does not really, truly know Holmes as well as he would think, especially not in the first few novels (note - in the stories they became very good friends). Later, he would understand Holmes and his motivations very well as demonstrated in chapter 1. Unfortunately, here it was also not explained very well - he knew that Holmes didn't mean what he said about woman (he had seen his interactions with women over the years) and he knew that it was only directed at that particular weak specimen. This was not completely explained in the text and any confusion and offence caused, I apologise, again.

These are the two characters as I see them and how they will appear in this story and in others that they might feature in.

The girl featuring in this story is a bit of a sticking point to many, although I do not quite see how this is possible. The genre states 'supernatural' and the summary states 'not quite human', but of course it could just be that I cannot see something that is so obvious to others. Therefore the genre's have been changes to Sci-fi/Supernatural. I hope that people will no longer be confused.

This character is an expansion of one I created in a novel years ago. She is part of a race that had evolved from humans (everyone run away now). They became aware of other planes of existence and had, over many years, developed a way to travel to them. There the natives are studied in the hope that the disaster that occurred in their Earth's past could be understood. There are many Watchers and all of them travel to other planes that are, actually, also the past of their Earth.

Right, everyone totally confused by this, let's try again:

Earth suffers a disaster

People evolve

People forget reason for disaster

Discover other planes of existence

Find ways to travel to them

Discover that many of them are also of Earth

Study them to determine a possible reason for the disaster

They do not travel in time (this is a 'Timeline' scenario).

She travels to the plane with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, but lands on a ship/in a military facility/on an island, with soldiers (haven't decided yet), where she is captured. Escaping the soldiers, she was critically injured and loses the ability to access her memory. Completely clueless, she wanders into London (somehow). There she finds someone that reminds her of family/friend/lover (haven't decided yet) in Holmes and follows him. Then she was captured in chapter 2.

The rest of the story will comprise her returning memories, their reactions and plans for getting her home again.

Is there actually anyone left reading this? Anyway, that was a basic summary of the plot and characters featuring in this story. Thank you to the reviewers that have helped me and motivated the formation of an actual plot by showing a continued interest.

And here is what everyone has been waiting for: a preview of chapter 4. (It's a bit short, but it is, after all, a preview).

Chapter 4:

The girl stood swaying in the doorway, looking at the food on the table. The drug Watson gave her so that she would sleep through the day and not bother Mrs. Hudson was working it's way out of her system, but one of it's side-effects were that it lowered the user's inhibitions. Slowly she made her way to the table and took a piece of bread that Holmes gave her and sat on the couch facing them.

"Look, Holmes", whispered Watson, 'the wound is healed completely."

The sleeping clothes they borrowed from Mrs. Hudson were too big for the girl and one shoulder slipped off as she sat down. Holmes found himself staring at her as she ate - the movement of her fingers were eerie to watch.

"I wasn't able to get time to study the blood sample I took from her", Watson continued, "but I will do so as soon as possible. What do you think of the material ..."

Holmes stared as the girl's attention was diverted from her bread to the broken watch on one of the small tables. It was Watson's and it came to be that way when the would-be murderer attacked him in his bid to escape. She poked the pieces with a delicate finger and then started to tinker with it, taking a bite of bread every now and then. After a few moments Watson realised that Holmes wasn't listening to him anymore and noticed the object of his attention.

Those fingers were surprisingly strong they realised as she broke a piece of metal that was once part of the clasp. A few minutes later she stood up and gave the watch to Holmes. She took another piece of bread and settled on the couch again.

The watch was working again.

TBC


End file.
